Left Behind
by Barana
Summary: Vlad/Danny, Slash. Death.     There's only so many pieces you can pick up once something's been shattered.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

I. Hate. Road trips.

I hate the sing-a-longs, I hate the stuffy feel of the car, and I hate **hate**_**hate**_that _stupid_ Fenton Ghost Ass Whooping Machine that my parents like to call an RV.

But mostly, I hated where it was taking my family, Tucker, and myself at the moment.

"Only 140 more miles to go, kids!" my dad laughed, a giddy grin on his face. "Oh, you guys are going to _love_ the Ghostapalooza. Ghost Hunters from all over the country are gonna be there. Not to mention, Bill Murray!"

"I don't see what the huge deal is." I crossed my arms and turned my attention to my hands, trying to tell the differences between natural skin creases and scars from hitting the ground and sixty miles an hour while fighting ghosts.

"The _big deal_ is that this is finally your father's and my chance to finally show up those jerks in white!" mom gave a triumphant smirk, and then turned to us. " Would any of you kids like a sandwich?"

"Oh, oh, I do! I want a sandwich!" dad nearly had a heart attack in his seat. Tucker snickered, and I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"Gee, Tuck. Sorry about dragging you around like this."

"No prob, dude. It was either this, or hang out with Sam and her new boyfriend all summer." A shiver ran down Tucker's back, and I laughed. It was true, ever since she had met Trevor at one of her Death Metal concerts, the girl had been head-over-heals. At first, I really didn't like the guy. He seemed iffy to me, but one day we were walking to the park and Sam had accidentally stepped on some glass. In one swift move, Trevor had sat her down on a bench, taken off her shoes, and was checking her feet to make sure she was alright.

I mean, what else could I do but give them my blessing?

I shifted in my seat and glanced over at Jazz. She was sitting quietly, listening to one of her psychology tapes, drifting in and out of sleep. Outside the window, I could see yellow hills, toppling over each other like the ocean had been turned to gold in the middle of a storm. From a distance, I-

"Jack, look out!" mom suddenly reached out for dad, but it was too late. Gravity had shifted, and I could feel myself being pressed forwards and towards the roof. Instinctively, I went intangible, but it was too late. I could already feel the roof of the car coming in contact with my skull, and faintly, I heard something crack. After that it was blurry.

People say that car crashes happen in slow motion. That they can see everything happen in front of them, and that they can't hear anything. I wish it had been that way. I wish I could have seen my mom and dad and Jazz in that last minute. I wish I could remember what Tuck was screaming, just before that god awful screech of metal on asphalt drowned everything else out. But I don't.

The last thing I _can_ remember is being pulled out by these white rubber gloves, and being carried against a thin body. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought we were floating.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry these ones are so short guys, I promise the next one will be at _least_ six pages. **

**Chapter Two. **

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

And then I landed. The mattress gave a violent shake, and I blinked twice, trying to let my eyes adjust to the light. Somewhere in the room was a faint beeping, and a constant wheezing of machinery. I turned to see what it was, and recieved an uncomfortable tugging on my arm. There were tubes-_ a lot _of tubes- coming from all parts of my body, and for a short moment I wondered if I was having another nightmare.

And then the pain kicked in.

First, it was a thick dull throbbing in my chest, much like I'd been kicked by a mule. A few seconds later, my entire right side was being pressed by a needle board, and to top it all off, there was a ever-lasting sharp pain on the top of my skull, trickling down my forehead and reverberating in my eye sockets. God, did that hurt. What in the hell had happened? I blinked again, this time trying to recall what could have possibly caused me to have been beaten so badly I was hospitalized-

Oh god.

It couldn't have-

I sat there, the memory creeping in on me, breath becoming shaky and my heartbeat quickening. I suddenly felt very small, as if the walls of my world had crumbled-no, _vanished_ from around me, and I was left alone and unsheltered from the cold darkness of space.

They were dead.

_They can't be! They can't possible be_- I began to claw at the tubes attached to my arm, giving up on the old fashioned way and finally phasing them through me. An alarm on one of the machines went off, but I didn't take particular notice. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed to stand up, but to my misfortune ended up face first on the floor.

With an exasperated sigh, I clawed the bed post and hoisted myself up, suddenly feeling rather light headed. I closed my eyes and tried to focus into going ghost, but couldn't quite manage summon the energy. I suddenly heard several voices, all speaking quickly and panicked.

"Daniel! Daniel! Are you alright?" A voice reverberated above me, jerking me up and back onto the bed, but not letting me lay down.

_What..? What are you worried about me, for? _The voice above me was confusing me. I was still alive, (Or at least, alive for being half dead) what need was there for concern for me? Obviously, the voice didn't understand the situation.

"Dead..." I croaked, trying to get my message through. "All of them... I have to.. I have to..."

"Daniel, please calm down! Nurse!"

"Prepare the anesthetic!"

"No..." my mouth felt awfully dry. "You have to listen... you have to listen to me...!"

"Shh. I'm here, I'm listening. Alright?" I think the voice grew arms and hands, because next thinng I knew they were holding mine. "It's going to be fine-"

"_NO!_" It was beginning to hurt to speak, but I had to get my message through to the voice. _Someone_ had to understand. Even if it was someone without a body. "It's not! They're dead! They're all dead!" I was crying now, clinging onto the voice's sleeve.

"I know, little badger. I know."

And before I could answer, there was a sharp prick in my arm, and everything blurred together and into blackness.

* * *

The call came in at 4:09 in the morning.

I don't know why. You'd think that with all the goddamned taxes I pay the police department could get their shit together a little more quickly. Apparently not.

In any case, I had hopped onto the first plane out to Michigan ( Apparently the Fenton's had been on a trip to a convention in North Dakota, and my plane-the damned thing, was out of commission) and when I arrived at the hospital, all where dead except young Daniel, who was in ICU. Of course, they wouldn't let me see him, and I was asked to identify the bodies and sign off on their certificates.

It was beyond abhorrible.

Jasmine's body was mostly intact, and if it hadn't been for the cut on the side of her face and the bluish tint to her lips, I would have thought she was sleeping. Maddie was worse: One side of her face had been badly burned, but the other- her right side, her _good_ side, was as beautiful as the last time I'd seen her. I'd be lying if I said I'd cried, though. And while I may be a mastermind in the art of deception, this was truly not something I wanted to lie about. As for Jack's body, well...

Let's just say I could identify his large orange jumpsuit better than I could identify his face.

There was another body among the dead, though. The young African American boy Daniel had spent so much time with. I for the life of me could not remember his name. Turner... Tupper... Tucket...

"Tucker...?" one of the nurses in the room piped in.

"Oh, yes. Tucker. Tucker Foley. How did you...?"

"He... he was saying it in his sleep." the nurse suddenly grew shy and skidded away.

"Tucker Foley." I repeated the name, and covered the body again. When all was said and done they finally let me rest in the waiting room, where I leaned my head against the wall and contemplated my next move.

Good lord, was this a mess. Daniel's life had indefinitely taken a turn for the worst, and I was left to pick up the pieces. There was still a matter of Daniel's guardianship.

_**If he survives.**_

_Do shut up. I've no need for your input right now. _

_**I'm just saying is all. I wouldn't have the will to live if I were that boy.**_

_ That's because you're already _dead.

Well, that certainly shut Plasmius up, didn't it? Vlad couldn't quite recall when he'd first heard the ghost's voice in his head, but since said ghost never tried to act on his own, he decided it didn't exactly matter. After all, through enduring 20 years of solitude, a little company was nice.

Even if it was inside your head.

"Mr. Masters?" A mousy little woman in a white coat popped her head into the waiting room. I stood up and she scooted over to me, a cup of coffee in hand. "You look like you need this."

"Thank you." I took the cup graciously. "Are you...?"

"I'm Daniel's Doctor. Dr. Ming. " She smiled. "He's resting now, We just moved him out of ICU."

"How is he?"

"Well... " she paused, and I froze. "He suffered a blow to the head, the CAT scan didn't show any actual trauma, but he did get stitches. His left ribs where broken from the CPR that the paramedic delivered, and his arm is broken in two places. Other than that, his vitals are low, but stable."

"Ah... I see." I followed quietly as she led me down the hall. We finally stopped at the room before last. She knocked twice, and proceeded to open the door.

Only to see Daniel, pulling himself up off the floor.

"Daniel! Daniel, are you alright?" I rushed over to him and pulled him up off of the floor, sitting him in the bed.

"Dead..." he pleaded. "I have to... I have to..." he was searching for something.

"Daniel, please calm down!" The boy was going to have a heart attack. The screen attached to the wires on his body began to go haywire.

"Prepare the anesthetic!" the doctor called behind me. Daniel began to clutch at my shirt and held his face to my abdomen.

"No! You have to listen-! You have to-" I grabbed his hands, and began to rub his palms, trying to relax him.

"Shh. I'm here, I'm listening. Alright?" I cooed. "It's going to be fine-"

"_NO!_" He angrily pulled away and clung to my sleeve. "IT'S NOT! They're dead! They're all dead!" He was sobbing, and I felt my heart crack for the boy.

"I know, little Badger." I held him closely, as the nurse administered the drug. "I know." He stopped moving, and I laid him back into the bed. When I finally saw him resting, eyes still red and wet with tears, I sunk to my knees.

_Good lord, Maddie_. I clung to the sheet. _What have you done?_

**Ba ba ba BUMMMMMM**

**I think Vlad's a bit too OOC. I don't know how to fix him though. Ah well. I'll blame his character on grief. Yes, it's grief's fault. Not mine. **

**In all actuality, I do think Vlad cares for Danny, and doesn't just want him as a minion. (In the show, too.) I think he just doesn't know it. **

**AND OH EM GEE! Thanks for all the reviews! I really didn't think that the first chapter was all that great, but you guys make me so **_**happy~!**_** *Goes off on a dancing rampage.* I guess I'm just going to have to work extra hard to pump out chapters, eh?**

**Off to start the next chapter! *Runs wildly***


	3. Chapter 3

_Green. That's all she can see: a deep forever green. It's not an earthy tone, though. It's an empty color. It's the color of fear. She reaches out to push it away, but it remains. A sudden truth is instantaneously carved into her conscious: It will always remain. _

_ She realizes she's cold. Why is she so cold? It's freezing here, not just outside, but everywhere, inside her hands, inside her chest, inside her head. It makes her crave for warmth... but what is that exactly? She can't quite remember, but she remembers it's pleasant. _

_ Before long she begins to move. It's not something she's willed herself to do, but rather, something her body is doing on it's own accord. Body... what is that? It seems so familiar, but lost. Like an old toy. She can't quite remember the way it looks, but she can remember the way it _feels_. Something shifts beside her, something auburn and whispy. It looks soft, it looks comfortable. She wants to feel it, and watching it, a pair of pale white hands stroke it gently. She can feel soft silky thread. Is this... is it hers? It's a familiar feeling, but an unfamiliar sight. These hands aren't _hers_. This hair isn't _hers.

_ So who's is it?_

_She wills the hands to push her forward, and soon it's as though she's swimming through the green, searching desperately for a means of escape. She decides she doesn't like it here, the cold is beginning to frighten her. It seems she's pushing through the green for an eternity, when she comes upon a large purple building. It hovers in the air, a pillar against the emptiness. It draws nearer and nearer, and she faintly notices that the cold is slightly slipping away from her. _

_ She pushes gently past large wooden doors, and is lightly embraced by the soft glow of a fireplace on th opposite end of a large room, whose walls were lined ceiling to floor with mountains of books. In between, in the room's space, shelves at least forty feet high crowd together, in attempt to crowd every nook and cranny in the room, save for the three foot barriers around them for walk room. _

_ She drifts in slowly, taking in the sight and the smell of paper, wandering in and out of aisles, brushing those hands that aren't hers along this book's spin, and that book's cover, until her solitude is broken by a deep commanding voice._

_ "_What are you doing in here?"_it fumes, and she flips around to see a thin grey man, glaring at her intensely from behind a pair of black glasses. His clothing and wiry build give him an air of meekness, but it is burned away by the fire in his eyes, and the sharp strong angles of his face, now contorted into a displeased frown. _"How did you get in?"

"Unlocked." _she says simply, not exactly afraid of him, but aware of his... strangeness. She moves forward and looks him over again. He is slightly surprised by this, and he floats back. _

"Who _are_ you?" _he asks suspiciously, scowling. The question startles her, and she stops a moment. She doesn't know. She hasn't even thought about the question, really. Who is she? Where does she come from? What is her name?_

"I don't know." _she blinks and her features are cemented into a look of puzzling worry. He sighs irritatedly at this and shakes his head, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along forcibly._

"Damned newbies." _he mutters under his breath_. "Orientation is Walker's job. Not mine." _As he continues to the door, she allows herself to be pulled along, not knowing where he's headed but warmed by the contact. She scans book titles as they pass by and wonders momentarily how did such one person come about so many books, when one jumps out at her like a flash of lightning. She stops and tears her arm from his grip, as swiftly as she can picking up the one who stole her attention. _"What are you doing? Don't touch that!"

_Her hands glide over the cover, lightly shaking. The cover reads: _**The Psychology of an Overbearing Sister**. _She's seen this before... it was a gift, wasn't it? From who? The image of a pair of bright blue eyes beaming at her from underneath a mop of black overpowers her, and causes her to hug the book tightly to her chest._

"I want to check this one out."


End file.
